The Pick Up

The night begins with a pick up. The party favors were too good to leave behind. Clappy and I were cruising down the city, enjoying the tunes on the radio. Clappy asks, "Jiban. Are you ready?"

I smirk, and reply, "Bro. I was born ready."

We make a stop around the bend and see our man "Z" holding a grocery bag. Z enters the car and hands me the good stuff. The cash was cold and crispy. As Z opened the door to let himself out, in a synchronized motion, Clappy and I say words of thanks, and proceed to our destination:

Stadium.